Keys to Paradise
by comewithnattah
Summary: ONE SHOT. On a late night after work, Rick convinces Michonne to move past their professional relationship using the keys he knows so well.


Michonne rolled her head on her neck to ease the strain on her muscles from standing all night. When she bought this bar, she didn't anticipate being an actual bartender but with Glenn and Teddy calling out sick this week, it fell to her to fill in. She pushed past the swinging doors from the kitchen. Turning to head for the bar area, she saw Rick in his crisp white dress shirt, sleeves rolled up, washing the glasses in a tub full of suds.

She stopped in her tracks and sighed through a knowing smile. He should have left an hour ago with the last tipsy customers she locked the door behind. She didn't want this to become a habit. Four nights in a row now, he had stayed until 3:00 a.m. with her and it was getting harder and harder for her to ignore how attracted she was to him.

He made no attempt to hide his attraction to her, though. He'd asked her out as soon as she told him he was hired. She was more than flattered, but sensibly and painfully declined. But her will to be sensible had declined more and more with every night she spent in his orbit.

His dark brown curls fell in his face as he labored over the tiny sink under the bar. His profile was easier to withstand than to look at him head on, so she took a brief second to admire his knee-buckling physique before she tried to talk him into calling it a night. He had a chiseled angular jaw covered in dark stubble and pink lips that were so soft he licked them as much as she fantasized about doing the same.

His forearms were flexed and veined as he turned the beer mugs and brandy snifters over in his sizeable manly hands. His wide, hefty shoulder blades rolled with each movement across his strapping back. He had donned a black apron to keep his shirt clean and the tied straps around his narrowed waist hung over his perfect ass in pressed black trousers.

Besides his silky voice, his good looks were exactly the reason she'd hired him in the first place. She had run into her annoying ex that day and was a little spiteful when Rick came in offering to liven up the place on the lonely piano in the corner of her club. At the time she couldn't think of a reason to turn down such sweet eye candy. But now that she knew him better she knew he was sweet in other ways too. Staying late, pulling trash, bouncing jerks… he did more than she paid him to. And to top it all off, he kept her laughing with great conversation whenever he got the chance.

It felt more and more like flirting every night they closed up shop together and every night she felt bad about it. Not only was she his boss, but she had a few years on him too. She was nowhere near a relic and she looked _good_ , not even a wrinkle. Michonne kept a yoga-waist and an ass that was round and soft like a fresh baked roll. Younger guys always came onto her and women who knew her age hated her guts. People who didn't know her age were always floored when she revealed it proudly.

Honestly, it was her level head and maturity that always reminded her that she could do without the drama. And she knew if she let those electric blue eyes stare her out of her panties, drama could only follow. She was not a one night stand kind of woman. She'd want more than that from any man she gave herself to. She couldn't imagine how her demanding sense of self-worth would come across to a man Rick's age who, she assumed, was used to girls gone wild.

Still, everytime they were alone together she heard her best friend Sasha in the back of her mind encouraging her, "Girl, go be a cougar and let that young boy blow your back out." She heard those words tip-toeing through her mind as her long lashes fluttered taking in the sight of him, so she cleared her throat to quiet her inappropriate thoughts.

"You're still here? It's late… again. I've got it from here. You sh-" She reprimanded him mildly with a glowing grin.

"I'll leave when you do." He stated firmly, cutting off her familiar segue into her bid for him to go home. A crooked smile graced his face as he realized he may have put his foot down a little too heavily, if her widened eyes and dropped jaw were any indication. He turned to her, inclining his head to look up apologetically from under his brow. "I ain't leavin' you here alone." His sexy deep south accent floated through the space between them and sent a shiver down her spine that made her clench her thighs under her black mini skirt and her nipples sprang to attention under her white t-shirt.

She scoffed as she approached his side of the bar, "Don't forget who the boss is here, Rick." she said with a playful point of her finger into his solid chest. She immediately regretted her impulsive decision to touch him as his unyielding pectoral pushed back hard against her finger tip. So she foolishly followed that mistake with patting his flexing bicep as he dried his hands with a towel.

"Not possible." His eyes stayed on her form as she passed him to hit the main light switch and the room darkened, leaving only the pale golden glow over the bar and stage. "You're definitely the boss, but I ain't goin' home til you do. I'm happy to indulge any other requests you might have, though." He answered her, unhidden desire swirling in his eyes like a hurricane.

She was smart enough not to turn and face him. She busied herself by wiping down the already polished counter. "Really?" she said to his obvious innuendo.

Rick went to stand on the patron's side of the bar. He started to make a similar useless path with a damp towel over the spotless counter until he stood right in front of her, catching her eyes before she could avert them. "Really." he certified his proposition confidently, throwing the towel over his shoulder. He braced his arms wide against the bar in a commanding stance. "Put me to work." he challenged her with a smirk standing there looking like a tall drink of trouble.

Michonne licked her lips, "Look, I really appreciate everything you do around here. But I hired you to sing…" she said deflectively, dropping her eyes, "... set the mood for the customers. So that's-"

Rick interrupted her again, "Good idea." He was cool with rejection, but knowing the feeling he had about Michonne was mutual wasn't something he could ignore. He reached over the bar and slipped a few of her locs behind her ear to better gauge her reaction to his next suggestion, "Let me sing to you… see if I can't set a mood in here." His eyes cut over to the piano.

She thought to herself that a little music might speed things along, get them out of there quicker before something happened. At the very least, he'd be across the room on the piano where his shampoo and laundry detergent scent wouldn't make her dizzy. She watched Rick make his way past the upended rosewood chairs resting on their matching tables. He'd swept and mopped the brown cement floor and now the gripping sole of his wing-tipped oxfords took him toward the piano on a bow-legged stride that made Michonne take a deep breath.

"C'mon." he invited her with a sultry smile and a tilt of his head as he untied the apron and pulled it off his body.

"Uh… I'll listen from here." She said peeping his game as she found a few containers of garnishes to fuss over.

Rick gave her a skeptical look and doubled back, taking purposeful long strides, his prominent gem-colored eyes flashing in the darkness of the space. He arranged two glasses and the delicate neck of a bottle of Hennessy in one hand between his long fingers. "I sing, you pour." he raised the drink and slipped his empty hand over hers, towing her along before she could put down the bowl of maraschino cherries in her hand.

She looked back, stuttering in search of an objection, but all she found was their reflection in the mirror behind the bar. The image of Rick pulling her behind him with complete control of her was like a waking dream for her, so similar to the dreams that replayed in her mind for weeks since she'd met him.

Rick ignored her reluctance, choosing instead to bask in the pearliness of her coy smile. He began touching his fingers to the slender piano keys. Michonne still found herself impressed by how he could make a melody as easily as she could flip her hair over her shoulder. He toyed with the keys until the composition became familiar to her. Still she couldn't place the song.

She handed him a glass of the dark gold liquid as she brought hers to her lips, closing her eyes as the warm tendrils of the alcohol spread through her chest and settled her mind. One-handed, Rick continued making the silvery sounds and gave her a mischievous grin as he joined her on a gulp of his drink.

"What's this song?" Michonne asked with a curious wrinkle of her face. "I know this."

Rick sat his glass next to him on the bench and moved both hands deftly over the keys, bringing the melody to life all the more. That heart-melting voice of his feathered in over the lightly tapped notes. Like the Henney slowly rocking her to a comfortable calm, the deep register pushing past his lips wrapped her up in the amorous scene of his spontaneous serenade.

 _" **Walks by me every day**_

 _ **Her and love are the same**_

 _ **The woman that's stolen my heart**_

 _ **And beauty is her name**_

 _ **I'm hoping I can make you mine**_

 _ **'Fore another man steals your heart**_

 _ **And once your beauty is mine**_

 _ **I swear we will never be apart**_ "

"You know Dru Hill?" she asked him, surprised. The lyrics of the Dru Hill song entitled "Beauty" found the niche in her mind where they were stored years ago and she smiled at him as he smiled back at her recognition.

"This song's been stuck in my head since I met you." he boldly confessed over the grand piano's tune. Michonne rolled her eyes trying to hide how his words affected her, but he saw it. She hopped out of her little red flats and up onto the smooth black surface of the piano's closed lid. She swayed and swung her feet in tandem, enjoying her private concert. She closed her eyes, feeling her locs swinging across her back. Rick sat mesmerized, playing the notes on autopilot.

He gifted her with a verse.

 _ **"It didn't take much time to think about**_

 _ **But I didn't want to move too fast**_

 ** _'Cause I knew that when I saw you again_** ** _T_**

 ** _hat I wouldn't want to let you pass_**

 ** _'Cause my eyes have seen the glory_**

 ** _In the coming of your smile_**

 ** _S_** ** _o I swear if you ever come 'round again_**

 ** _Please stay for a while_ "**

Since he first saw her walking with a regal slink toward him in an African-print wrap dress that hugged her curves- her hair pulled up into a messy bun, Rick was enchanted. She had her hand extended for a professional greeting before his unscheduled audition and the brightness of her generous smile nearly stopped his heart as they exchanged names and pleasantries. Spending time with her had him addicted to her voice, her smell, and all the little things she did that made coming to work no work at all. From their late night talks Rick had figured out that Michonne had been hurt by love and was wary of its unpredictability. He was disappointed when she explained her belief that young men were unstable, unfaithful. That was not Rick, but he hadn't argued the point. He decided on patience and proof to convince her.

He sang in a passionate plea for a chance at her love,

 ** _"You are so beautiful_**

 ** _When I'm down and out_**

 ** _I never seem to get tired_**

 ** _Tired of your love_**

 ** _'Cause you are wonderful_**

 ** _You're wonderful_**

 ** _I'm just dying to make you see_**

 ** _Anything you want inside your heart_**

 ** _You can find right here inside of me"_**

The perfection of the moment was pushing her to give into Sasha's suggestion. She rationalized that he was a nice guy. She felt like she could trust him, and for that she thanked God, because she sure couldn't trust herself around him. She didn't continue to dwell on the pros and cons. Michonne worked up the nerve and turned on her bottom to throw her legs over the front of the piano, her pedicured toes landing with an abruptly harsh clang on the keys.

The room went completely quiet as Rick stilled his fingers and looked up at her perched to his left. He took hold of her hips and pulled her across the instrument's top to station her directly in front of him, her toes playing a glissando as he re-positioned her. She didn't look away this time. She was ready.

"If we do this," She heard herself say through the thump of her heart, "things won't stay the same between us."

"Promise?"

"I'm serious, Rick. If this is really what you want… I want it too. Just be sure… this is what you really want."

Instinctively, he moved his hand slowly to her foot, sliding it up the smooth dark skin of her supple calf to the back of her knee. He kissed the top of her foot and gently dragged his scruff-covered face up and down the inside of her leg. She set her hands free to roam through his dark mane and the trimmed strands felt silky between her fingers as his palms rounded her hips and ass to pull her to the edge of the piano. Her short skirt did little to hide the purple lace covering her pretty waxed pussy and Rick did little to hide his disdain for the fabric. He gripped the top of her panties and pulled.

"This… this is what I want, Michonne. You." He swore. "That's what I want."

Michonne followed his lead, lifting for him to pull her thong from under her and down her legs. She lifted one foot and then the other, making a disjointed racket as her toes came down again on the tinkling keys of the higher notes on his left, then the gonging echo of the lower ones on his right.

Rick could smell how good she was going to taste, her arousal wafting and making his mouth water. He reached up to cup her breast through her shirt and Michonne covered his hand with her own, leaning forward to kiss him.

She had wanted to taste his lips for so long and now that she did she felt justified for her current impropriety. She moaned into his mouth as their kiss deepened.

"Your lips are so soft." he whispered to her before she could tell him the same. He placed his index and middle finger to the pillowy entrance between her legs. "Can I taste you here, too?" He spoke against the inside of her thigh, his warm breaths making her legs fall further apart.

"Yes, Rick."

He moved forward, happy with the piano's height that spread her out before him like a feast. He kissed her lower lips repeatedly, sliding his fingers over her sparking nub and Michonne arched her back encouraging him to give her more.

When he released his tongue, the sound that escaped her throat shocked her, but Rick seemed pleased as he dived further into her center wearing a proud smile. He found the rhythm for her quickly and seconds into ravaging her she was tightening her thighs against his face.

"Mmm... Right there… God! That's good. Right there. You're perfect." She told him and he really was.

Moaning over her as he licked and laved and swirled and swiped his tongue greedily, Rick wanted to tell her she was perfect too, but he literally couldn't stop tasting her until he got her to cream for him. He repurposed his tongue from her clit to plunge stiffly into the wetness of her pussy. He quickly realized that she knew exactly how she wanted it as she started to grind on his tongue, bucking her pelvis against his face until she came. One hand was planted at the back of his head, while the other gripped the edge of the piano near her thigh so the tsunami of sensations wouldn't sweep her away.

She finally let him go, once her vision started to clear, and witnessed the shine of his chin drizzled with her juices. His face, beautifully decorated by the abstract painting from her pussy, left Michonne dazed and staring at her artwork. Rick put his fingers to his face skimming the coating of nectar around his lips, nose and chin. He raised his dewy digits to her mouth.

"Taste." He said, caressing her red stained lips with those honey coated fingers and Michonne allowed them inside her mouth without an ounce of inhibition. She licked over them and sucked them clean as Rick watched on through hazy eyes. His hand fell from her mouth down the front of her neck and further down, past her heart, past her navel to rest on her thigh near her pussy. "You taste like cherries." She acknowledged him with a light giggle. Reaching for the bowl of syrup-soaked berries, she plucked out one and fed him from her fingers. He was quick to correct himself, "You taste better than cherries."

Michonne slid down to sit on the piano's black and whites, the sound of the keys under the bang of her cushy ass reverberated her to her core, competing with the humming of her live pussy. Bending at the waist, she reached down to his belt buckle and, with her nose brushing against his, she freed the mushroom-capped beast from it's cage. He was already so hard, she had to touch him with her hands to believe the heft of his cock. Michonne placed her knees on either side of him, resting on the piano bench. Veiny thickness filled her hands with pretty pink meat and she kissed him rapaciously, rubbing his slick precum over her petals. She left a trail of his silken liquid lust through the folds of her pussy as her recently devoured lair of heat and wetness absorbed inch after inch of him.

Michonne was eager to see what Rick hid under his shirt. She undid his buttons and pushed it off his shoulders, uncovering the virility of youth. His athletic build screamed stamina and she bit her lip as her palms felt across the firmly muscled plane of his chest.

Rick pulled her shirt over her head and unclasped her bra. He marveled at her exquisite anatomy, momentarily frozen. She grabbed the fullness of her tits pushing the bountiful offering of her peaked mounds together and waited for him to peel his eyes away from the sight and apply his soft lips there.

She hissed at the feeling of his teeth scraping against her weighted breasts and taut drawn nipples. She whimpered and moaned her own song as he replaced her smaller hands with his larger ones at her bosom, groping her there as she braced herself on her palms across the commotion of keys behind her. Leaning back, her skirt bunched around her belly, she rode him like her life depended on it. Maybe her life did depend on it. Michonne's mouth fell to the shape of an O as she struggled with how he stole her breath when he filled her up.

Rick couldn't believe he was inside her because she felt like a damn dream. He just knew he'd wake up any minute in his bed alone. Just in case it was a dream, he had to have her his way. He had to be the boss. Rick lifted her round behind from his lap, standing up with her leg wrapped around him he settled her back on the piano's keys. He opened her up wide as he took her gently, slowly with winding strokes. The little ledge of piano keys kept her sweet-smelling pussy falling back onto his intensely turgid cock. He wanted her to feel like he was making love, because he was- they were- though they wouldn't say it. It filled their eyes like the stars fill the skies.

""Damn, Michonne. You feel so good. I wanna be gentle with you," he whispered over her lips through labored breaths, "but I wanna fuck this pussy, too. I wanna make you feel this dick with every step you take tomorrow."

She briefly gave a thought to Sasha's off-color advice. She said a prayer for her soon to be blown out back. "Amen." She mumbled and Rick gave her a puzzled look, awaiting permission to really make her feel him. She gave him a glaring green light. "Do it, Rick. Fuck me." She begged, pulling him closer. "I want you to. I need you too."

"Okay."

The piano's guts shook noisily with the force of Rick's fierce thrusts. Michonne's ankle bounced on his shoulder with the jolting pace of his strokes. She felt the ripples of her orgasm cascading from each demolishing connection Rick made with her g-spot. He ate her up neck, breasts and all while she worked her clit under her finger. She screamed his name, fighting the helpless feeling coming over her as she shattered and shook in his hands from his savage touch. Rick was swallowed up by the beauty of her climax, her squirming on the end of his dick as her raining walls gripped him tight.

"Fuck. I'm right behind you, baby. Should I pull out?" He asked, the vein in his forehead bulged from the buildup of pressure seeking release.

Michonne shook her head. "Stay." She clung to his strong upper body desperately and he poured his seed in spurts in the darkness of her heat.

They were both floating like ice in a cocktail, dissolving into the night.

"I'm gonna treat you right, Michonne. Don't worry. You can trust me." Rick's legs gave out and he dropped back to the piano bench behind him, bringing her body along to straddle him again. He was still hard inside her as she rolled her hips lazily. "I just wanna make you happy."

"You did. You do." She held his face in her still trembling hands, finding her way to get lost in his eyes. "Sing me another song?"


End file.
